So Cold
by Crowdreamer
Summary: AU, Based on Biogenesis, Sixth Extinction I and II. Mulder awakens from his ordeal to the sight of Scully, but he suffers from partial amnesia due to manipulation of his memories by CSM. How will this change their relationship? And how will Scully deal with the changes? Will he ever remember what they had before?
1. Chapter 1

_Author's notes: Okay, so I've been busy, as I'm sure the rest of you have been too. This story is an AU of Sixth Extinction and that whole trilogy. Notice I said AU, so it's gonna be different. Not sure what to rate it yet, because I haven't decided quite yet how to end it (although I do have a general idea). So maybe I'll just leave it open and put it where mature audiences can read. _

**So Cold**

**Chapter 1**

Scully entered the cold, metal-filled room to finally find what she had been looking for—Mulder lying on the table in front of her. She had only found this place because someone had slipped a badge under her door earlier today—otherwise Mulder would still be lost to the world, and quite possibly would end up dead within the next few days. She approached him, stealthily but cautiously, wondering if he would be able to make it out of this place.

His eyes were closed, and he did not respond when she stroked his face and talked to him, urging him to get up. "Please, Mulder, you've got to help me," she begged him.

It was only when a stray teardrop fell from her face onto his that he finally opened his eyes. Aware now, he looked at her and croaked, "Agent Scully. Help me."

_Agent _Scully? But she did not have time to ponder the significance of the manner in which he addressed her. She would have to work through the details later—right now they had to get out before they were discovered.

She was not at all sure how they made it all the way to the car. Mulder could barely walk, even with her help, and he stumbled and fell twice on the way out of the facility. But each time, she managed to encourage him to keep going, and he gave up every bit of his energy to do so.

Once they were safely in the car and driving away from Mulder's place of captivity, she pondered whether or not to try and talk to him. He was so worn out—she knew he needed to rest until he could get proper medical attention. But a part of her wanted so badly to know what he had experienced, and what was going on in his head right now. Was he the same Mulder she had known before the "abduction" by the cigarette-smoking bastard? Or had he suffered brain damage in this ordeal? What exactly had they done to him?

And even though she knew it wasn't as important as his overall health, she was dying to know—had this affected his feelings towards her in some way?

She decided to risk fatiguing him further, and probe into his mind a little. "Mulder?"

She looked over at the seat next to her, where he was reclined as far as they had been able to get the seat back, his head hanging limply as he tried to rest. "Huh?", was all he could muster.

"Do you…do you remember anything I said to you while you were in the hospital?"

He rolled his head back and forth, and she could not tell if that was a "no" or if he was trying to wake up. Finally, he spoke. "The last thing I remember," he paused, exhausted, "is my wedding. Where…where is she?"

"Who, Mulder?"

"Diana. Where is my wife?"


	2. Chapter 2

**So Cold**

**Chapter 2**

Part 1.

Barely able to keep his head up, Mulder used every last bit of strength he had to look in the back seat of the car. "Where's my wife? Where's Diana?"

Scully pushed him gently back into his seat. "Just rest, Mulder. You need to rest."

He complied, and closed his eyes to fall back into a restless sleep. At the hospital, doctors examined him and found nothing physically wrong, other than exhaustion. He had obviously had surgery recently, but a CAT scan revealed nothing abnormal about his brain activity, unlike the last time doctors had performed such tests. But he needed his rest, and although Scully stayed by his side and held his hand while he slept, she did not try to arouse him to ask him the burning questions she had for him. She wondered if this delusion that he was under—that he was married to Diana Fowley—was just a temporary set-back due to stress, or whether it was a sign of more serious memory disruption. But she would not find out the answers until he was able to communicate without feeling fatigued.

But before Mulder had a chance to regain consciousness, a visitor broke up the reverie. Diana barged into the room, ignoring Scully and proceeding straight to the bedside of the recovering patient. Scully's mouth dropped open as Diana gently picked up his hand and said in a whisper, "Fox."

He did not respond. Scully's chest filled with an anger that she could not justify, as this woman had ultimately saved his life. Then she realized the source of her rage—jealousy was creating a bitterness that felt like daggers through her heart. She contained her feelings, as she had always done so well, to address Diana in a hushed voice. "What are you doing here? Won't you be in trouble if they find you?"

Diana tore her gaze away from Mulder's face and turned her eyes towards Scully. "It's taken care of—but thanks for your concern."

Although Diana's eyes had remained soft while she addressed Scully, the two of them sharing a common cause, Scully still felt her anger intensifying. But she could hardly take her feelings out on this woman—it would be wrong to attack a person who had taken the ultimate risk for the man they both loved.

As Scully began to sift through the complicated emotions arising within her, Mulder began to stir. He opened his eyes and turned first towards Scully, and then to Diana, and a wide smile slowly formed on his lips. His eyes softened as he recognized the object of his affection—but he was not looking at Scully. To her dismay, Mulder gazed at Diana with loving eyes and said, "I'm so glad you're here—I was worried…" A tear rolled down his face, punctuating his statement.

Diana smiled back at him and said, "I know, Honey. Just rest—we'll talk later. You need your sleep." Scully couldn't help but feel like she had woken up in an alternate universe this morning. Was she going crazy? Or had everyone else around here lost their minds in a mass hallucination?

Part 2.

Diana had insisted on caring for Mulder while he was in the hospital, and he had not objected, and in fact acted as if that was his preference. Scully had not pushed the issue, not wanting to create extra stress for him while he was still recovering. But her stomach dropped, and she felt the window of opportunity closing, when Diana announced that she would be taking Mulder back to his apartment and staying with him.

She decided to have a little talk with Diana in the hallway. She glared at the brunette in front of her. "What exactly are you doing?"

Diana did not hide her irritation. "I'm taking care of Fox, of course. You heard him—it's what he wants."

Scully folded her arms. "Look, Diana, I am grateful that you provided me with a way to save him. But I cannot forget the fact that you sold him to the enemy to begin with…"

"I know I did, Agent Scully, and for that I'm sorry. At the time, I thought it was for the best. But I realized my mistake, and I did what I had to—you know how much I put on the line for him."

"I know. But you playing along in this little delusion of his, I don't think that's in his best interest, either. And I'm pretty sure you're not doing it for his sake, anyway."

Diana's voice started to rise. "He is an adult, Dana. He can decide for himself."

Scully had had about enough of her false concern for Mulder's welfare. She hissed, "Can he? It's entirely possible that his brain has been damaged from all of the tampering. Is this the path he would have chosen, if he had never gone through all the procedures and the surgery?"

Diana looked her in the eye, but she remained silent. "That answers my question," said Scully. "You don't know. None of us can know for sure, so why don't you back off and quit trying to influence him?"

"Because he needs help, Dana. And he wants it from me—not from you. And that's bothering you. Just whose interests are you looking out for, while we're questioning motives?"

They glared at each other for a few seconds, and Diana made a dramatic exit back into Mulder's room. Scully thought about what Diana had said, and while she wanted to deny it, to defend her claims of looking out for Mulder's mental health, she knew there was some truth to what Diana had said. For the first time since they had started working together, she felt like Mulder did not care if Scully was there to comfort him, and that hurt like hell.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's notes: Ooooh….I am really beginning to love this story—so heart-wrenching for Scully. _

**So Cold**

**Chapter 3**

Scully sat in her car outside of Mulder's apartment building, waiting for Diana to come out. She needed to talk to Mulder alone, and the only way she knew how to wrench him away from Diana's tight clutches was to conduct this covert surveillance and wait for her to leave. She had to know what exactly he did remember, and where the X-files fit into the whole thing. After all, she had finally uncovered evidence that completely supported his theories of alien interference on this planet, and she needed to know if his head was going to be back in the game anytime soon. And, although she tried to tell herself that her interest was purely in knowing where the future of the X-files was at, she realized that she had more selfish interests as well—was she losing the man she cared about the most, at a time when they had finally begun to admit their feelings towards one another? She sat that way, alone with her grueling thoughts, for two entire hours before she finally saw the tall, willowy woman exit the building.

Number forty-two…how many times had she knocked on this door, in good times and in bad, knowing that he would be glad to see her? What would be his reaction to her now? Where was her place in this new life of his?

He opened the door, and she held her breath as she waited for his reaction to her arrival. He was not cold to her, not at all, but she was still disappointed by his reaction, or lack thereof. "Agent Scully?" She wished he would not call her that. "What can I do for you?"

Curious but detached. She supposed she should not have expected anything different, but she still felt a sadness that went deep through her and ate away at her core. "Agent…Mulder. Can I come in? I know you're still recovering," she said, as an acknowledgement to the bandages covering his head, "but I really need to ask you some questions about your experience…for my report."

"Sure, sure. Come in on."

She stood face to face with him, wanting so badly to put her hands to his face, to tell him how she really felt after practically losing him for good. But she knew it would not be received the way that she hoped it would, so she refrained. "Do you…do you remember what happened leading up to your stay in the hospital?" She fought hard to keep the tears from welling up.

He looked at a spot on the ground, trying to remember. "You know, not really. All my most recent memories are about my new life, since the cigarette-smoking man picked me up."

Scully choked back her sadness. "Picked…you…up?"

"Yeah, he took me to my new home, where I saw my dad, who told me everything was okay. I finally felt like I could let go of my quest to find the truth, that it was right there in front of me. I saw my sister, and she was alive and well. And Diana and I," he smiled now. "We fell in love all over again, and we settled down into our new house." He looked at Scully. "Everything…everything that happened before—the X-files, the UFO's, that all seems so distant. I was finally happy, and then…and then I woke up." He looked as if he was holding back tears himself at the memory of waking up in such a traumatic way.

"I'm…I'm sorry." She looked away, trying to decide how to broach the subject she really wanted to address. She decided to take a direct approach, and looked him straight in the eyes. "And what about me…what do you remember?"

"You?" His surprise at the question was not reassuring. "I know we worked together. I know we were close, and we really trusted one another." He shook his head. "It just…it all seems so long ago, I don't remember a whole lot of the details."

She looked down to avoid him seeing her face—she did not want him to see her about to cry. Composing herself, she finally looked at him again. "Do you know yet, that all those more recent memories—those are false Mulder."

He squinted his eyes, confused. "False? What do you mean?"

"I mean, Mulder, that just a few weeks ago, you and I were working together. We discovered new evidence of alien intervention into our civilization. You never got married, your dad…" Seeing his face falling, she stopped, and decided to try a new approach. "All of that never happened, Mulder. I hate to be the one to break it to you, but someone has to. That was all in your head—none of it was real…"

His brow furrowed in anger. "I don't know what you're talking about, Agent Scully, and I don't know what you're trying to pull. I remember all of it so clearly, now you're trying to tell me that what I experienced is all a fake?" He half-turned away from her. "I don't believe you, Agent Scully, and I want you to leave now."

"Mulder…"

"Get out…now!"

Seeing no other option at the moment, she did what he asked, and left her heart at the door.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's notes: Okay, so I just remembered that I need to tell you all—I am basing this story completely off of my own memories of these three episodes, so if I get some obscure detail wrong, I'm sorry. I've seen them all several times, but it doesn't mean I remember every single thing that happened, so… You can remind me in the comments, if you feel the need to do so. _

**So Cold**

**Chapter 4**

Part 1.

Scully was trying hard to pull herself together, but she felt as if what little sense of security she had felt before Mulder was kidnapped was disintegrating into a million pieces. The past few days had seen the world she knew crumbling before her like a giant tower downed by missile strikes.

She went to the only other person she felt she could trust. Entering Skinner's office, she felt a sense of dread, as if discussions had already taken place and decisions made, without her. "We have to talk to him and help him come to his senses," she pleaded, looking him in the eye with her demands, stabbing through the distance between them. "I've got all the records printed out, to give Mulder proof of his real life. He will listen to the two of us together."

Skinner looked elsewhere, as if he could not face her, knowing what he knew. "We can't, Agent Scully." He looked at her once again. "It wouldn't do any good anyway."

She felt angry now, angry that her boss, her mentor, was not supporting her when she needed him the most. Angry at the cigarette smell in the room. She felt indignation taking control of her senses. "Why?" she asked. "Because nicotine-man got to you already?"

But instead of striking back verbally in his usual assertive manner, Skinner softened his tone. "Dana, I've tried, believe me. They won't let anyone near him, but I did manage to get a meeting alone with him, and he doesn't believe me either."

Scully turned away from him, frustrated. "But maybe he would believe the documents…"

"Look, Dana, I have it on good authority—his memories have been manipulated. No matter what we say, the false life he has been given is the truth to him, and his real life is just…well, it's gone, for good."

She whirled to face him. "No! I refuse to accept that. Memories cannot just be erased…"

"How can you say that, even though you yourself have experienced memory loss, memories that you _still_ have not recovered?"

She was in his face, as close to him as she dared to get. "Look, I may not have any evidence that his memories will return—but I know there has got to be a way to restore them. He cannot just forget everything that was important to him—everything that mattered in his life."

Skinner shook his head. "Maybe that's what you want, Dana, but it doesn't look like he's ever going to get them back, and I don't know that there is any way to change that."

Part 2.

On the way home, Scully reflected on her conversation with Skinner. She knew she did not want to give up. And yet, maybe Skinner was right—Mulder had looked her right in the face, had heard what she had to say, and it had absolutely no impact on him. He was utterly convinced that his reality consisted of an alternate life, despite hearing differently from the one person who used to matter more than anybody else to him. Maybe she would have to accept the cold, hard facts—that the Mulder she once knew was dead to the X-Files, and dead to her.

She entered her apartment and went straight to a cabinet that held something she had not touched in a long time—a bottle of tequila. She tried not to think about Mulder through the first two shots, which she followed up with club soda. But as hard as she tried, she could not get the thought of his thick, dark hair and hazel eyes out of her mind. She had waited for six long years to take their relationship to the next level, mainly to avoid conflicts in their working relationship, and lately she had felt his desire to get closer.

She knew deep down that she loved him.

She wished she had told him sooner.

She longed to finally deepen their ever-increasing embraces, to wrap herself in his arms until the two of them felt as one.

And now she may never feel his loving touch again.


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's notes: I am really excited about this chapter, and where this is going. I know, I say that all the time—sorry. Not just trying to hype my work, I just enjoy writing these stories, and I get all into them myself. Hope y'all like it! I try to keep the chapters short to let the tension build. Let me know if it annoys you at all, if you want me to give you more at a time._

**So Cold**

**Chapter 5**

Part 1.

Scully wept. She kneeled on the carpeted floor of her apartment, staring at the tears forming puddles below her. '_Get up,' _she thought. '_Quit feeling sorry for yourself—get up and fight for him.' _But it was no use. She felt as if there was no hope, and there was no motivation for her to move from the spot where her dreams were all melting away.

Not even bothering to wipe the tears away anymore, she thought of life without him. There was no reason to continue on with her job—he was the driving force behind the X-Files. She supposed she could continue to try and find out the meaning of the artifacts she had found—whether it was some other-worldly conspiracy to control life on Earth, whether they would all be wiped out by an alien invasion. But what was the purpose, if her driving force was gone?

She could remember a time before Mulder—a time when she existed just fine without him. But was she really happy back then? She could not remember being more alive, more intensely aware of all life's intricacies, more…satisfied with life, before she teamed up with him. She was flooded with memories of their sweet caresses, the light brushes of skin on skin, the gentle hugs. He had been there for her, through all the hurt and the pain—he had washed the tears away when life had become too painful. But it was gone now, all gone. Instead, he would be kissing Diana, feeling her skin on his, warming his body against hers. Diana had not earned any of the affection, yet she was reaping all the benefits of his lost memories.

Scully was angry, and then sad again. She pulled herself up off the floor long enough to down another swig of her elixir, and then settled onto the couch to let the sorrow pour out.

There, on the kitchen counter, sat her gun. She contemplated whether a final act to end her grief was worth it. She decided it was better not to think at all, and she stood up to move towards her target.

She took two steps toward it, and was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Part 2.

She debated whether or not to answer the door. Catching a glimpse of herself in a mirror that hung near the front door, she saw reddened, squinting eyes and flushed cheeks. How could she face anyone right now? But what if it was someone with news about Mulder? Or what if it was him…

Stumbling to the door, she opened it and raised her eyes just in time to see the crinkles in the face of the man she hated the most right now, as he brushed past her and made his way into her living room. She could not believe the balls on this man. "What the Hell are you doing here?"

He turned to face her, a smirk already settling onto his lips. He let the silence linger for a few more seconds before he bothered to answer her. "Agent Scully, I think I have something you want."

She opened her mouth, and before she had a chance to check the sound of enthusiasm in her voice, she said, "Mulder's memories?"

He took out a cigarette, but she snatched it out of his mouth before he had time to light it. He walked away from her, took out another, and lit it just before turning to face her again. "No, Mulder." Taking a drag, he blew out the smoke and said, "I wasn't ready for him to leave just yet. I don't know why Diana did what she did, but she is no longer in the loop."

Scully wondered what that meant—what had they done to her? She found it hard to breathe suddenly. "What are you going to do to Mulder?"

His eyes twinkled. "Nothing, if you give me what I really want."

She felt an urge to punch the cigarette right out of his mouth. The alcohol was not helping her contain her anger. "Which is what?"

"You." He gave her a second to process this shocking proposal. "You have something I need, something that was given to you during your own abduction."

"Cancer, I hope?"

"Nope. I will spare you the details. But let's just say it's going to require surgical procedures to extract it from you."

She stared away in disbelief. But the decision required practically no deliberation on her part. "How will I know that you are letting him go safely?"

"We will make the exchange tonight, at 9 p.m. You show up alone at the underpass in this location." He handed her a slip of paper. "If you don't, you may never see Mulder alive again."


	6. Chapter 6

**So Cold**

**Chapter 6**

Part 1.

At 8:45 p.m., Scully took one more drink, and then wished she hadn't. She really needed all her senses about her, to make sure she was not duped in this exchange. She did not even feel sober enough for the drive, let alone for an intricate transaction the likes of which she was about to undertake. She threw the door to her apartment open as she rushed out the door…and was startled to see Diana Fowley standing before her.

Taking longer than usual to process this new visitor due to the alcohol, Scully stared at the woman before her. Finally, when the silence had lingered a bit too long, they both began at the same time. "What are you…"

"I thought I'd…"

"…doing here? I thought you were…"

"No, they just cut me out of the know." There was another pause, and then Diana sheepishly spoke, with genuine tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "I'm sorry, Dana. They have Mulder, and it's all my fault…"

"I know. I'm on my way to get him back."

Diana's tears appeared sincere, although Scully wondered if she was really crying for herself. "I thought that I was doing what was best for him, Dana. I thought he needed stability—that he needed to forget about his pursuit of the truth, for his own mental health." Scully was too tired to be angry anymore. She listened while Diana continued. "Please do what you have to do to get him back, Dana."

Scully's voice lowered almost to a whisper. "Oh, I will." She pushed past Diana to meet her fate.

Part 2.

Scully had time to reflect in the car on the way to the rendezvous to free Mulder. Where had her sudden courage come from? A few hours ago, she had been on the edge of doing something drastic, although she supposed her hopelessness had not been helped by all the drinks. Or perhaps it was the opposite-she had found her courage at the bottom of the cup, after all.

At any rate, she knew the answer, deep down. Even if he never recognized her as a friend again, she had to save Mulder's life. She still loved him, and after all, he was the one who had a life to live for now. Perhaps he would continue his "marriage" to Diana, and they would have beautiful, dark-haired children. She could feel some satisfaction knowing that her sacrifice would bring him happiness.

She pulled up under an overpass and stopped her car. Ahead of her in the darkness sat a silver Ford Taurus, with lights off. She knew this was the one that would contain Mulder.

She exited her car and stepped forward a few tentative steps. Two figures emerged from the other car, one of them with hands bound and a burlap bag over his head. A billow of smoke rose into the night air as a burning ember became the only visible light, and then the cigarette-wielding man pulled the bag from Mulder's head.

Mulder stared at her, stunned. Their eyes met as she approached, and she could feel the questions multiply in his head as he watched her pass them. Cigarette man freed Mulder, who cast another long look in Scully's direction, and then paused. The smoking fool stomped his cigarette butt into the ground before pulling Scully to him by her arm and holding a gun to her head. He scowled at Mulder. "Go! Get outta here or I'll shoot her!"

Mulder shot one last look at her, as if trying to scan her mind for answers, and then trotted off. And that was the last she saw of him before being shoved into the car to be taken to an unknown location.

Part 3.

She could smell Mulder's scent on the inside of the burlap sack during the car ride. But she was distracted from the pleasant sensation by the feeling of Cigarette-man's hand on her bare knee. Now she wished she had been wearing a pants suit instead, but then, she had not been thinking of her own well-being.

Her hand snapped to his instantly, trying to pry it off her thigh. "Now, Dana—you don't mind if I call you Dana, do you?" His hand did not move. "You belong to me now. I'd suggest you accept that fact, and just cooperate. Things will go much more smoothly if you do."

She hated the sickly sweet sound of his voice—the way he tried to act like a decent human being when it was obvious that he was nothing but a snake in people's clothing. He put his other hand on top hers and said, "There's no reason we can't just be civil to one another. I'll tell you what—you do what I ask, and I promise you I will be gentle."

The heat of Scully's anger sucked up the limited air inside the burlap sack. "I thought you wanted me for something else."

She felt his grip tighten slightly on her thigh, and it repulsed her. "That's the main reason, yes. But we don't have to limit our interaction to the surgery, do we? There's no reason we can't have a little…fun, first."


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's notes: Not sure I wanted to add a Mulder POV to this one, but I think I really need to. I kinda went back in time here, but I still think it flows. So here we go!_

**So Cold**

**Chapter 7**

Part 1.

Mulder had been feeling more peaceful than he ever had in his life. And then he woke up. There was confusion when he saw his former partner's face above his, beckoning him to get up from the table. He could not remember how he got there or what he was doing there. The last thing he remembered was seeing Diana's glowing face as they made their way out of the reception hall so that she could give him the news—they were going to have a baby! Everything seemed so right…and yet so…unreal, at the same time.

And then there was Dana Scully, leaning over his weakened body. It seemed as if it had been years—no, more than that—a lifetime, since he saw her. He could barely remember anything related to his old job, in fact. He seemed to remember something about his sister…had she been missing?

But that was ages ago—everything was fine now. He had a fulfilling life, a beautiful wife, his parents and sister lived in the same neighborhood as him. And now he had a child on the way.

Except that he was waking up in a strange place, on a metal operating table, barely able to move. And here was someone he knew, but hadn't seen since…how long ago had it been?

'_Like a dream_,' he thought, but then threw the thought out of his head as quickly as it had appeared.

He was in and out of consciousness for the next few days, and then Diana came to his side. She took him home, although it was not the home he had lived in for the last few years. She took care of him, but she was acting strange—cold, almost. He asked her about the baby, and she said she had lost it. She did not behave as if this fact upset her, but she held him as he cried.

But nothing was more devastating to him than the visit from his old partner. As he watched her give him the far-out story about his "real" life, at first he saw a glimpse of something in her face that seemed familiar, something endearing. But it had quickly vanished when he realized what she was trying to say—that his life was a sham, a delusion fed to him while he was unconscious and paralyzed with some bizarre mental affliction.

At that moment he never wanted to see her again. How could anyone try so hard to ruin a person's life? How heartless must she be to put that type of doubt into his mind?

But it was a doubt that began to whittle away at him. Day in and day out, he ran through the scenarios. What if…just what if it was true?

His new confusion about his life was not cleared by remembering some of the dreams he had had while he was unconscious. He remembered a dream where Scully—had he not called her Scully in the days?—where she had tried to talk frankly with him, while he was lying in bed, old and dying. She had told him to get up and fight, that he was not meant to die without fighting the enemy first.

The dream had seemed so real, but then so had so many dreams he had over the years. But he could not accept that all that he knew could so suddenly vanish into the dream world. If the life he knew was not real, how could he know what _was _real?

Soon after, he was visited by his former boss, Assistant Director Skinner, who also tried to feed him an alternative version of his own life. He tried to listen with an open mind, but became enraged that somebody was lying to him and asked him to leave, even though he could not be sure who was telling the truth here. But before he could decide what direction to turn, before he could go hunting for the truth on his own, his life was interrupted once more, by the man who claimed to be the father of his sister. This time, the guy he had come to know and trust, even though he reeked of cigarettes, would betray him in a way that he could not forgive.

That man came to his house and took him away from his wife once again, saying he needed to show him some test results. Trusting him one more time, Mulder got in the car with him, only to be rewarded with a burlap sack over the head, and duct tape around his wrists.

Part 2.

Mulder had been bound for a day before anyone even bothered to talk to him. Despite his pleading, nobody bothered to tell him why he was being held. He had plenty of time to sit and reflect on the events of the last few days.

Small flashbacks that felt real invaded his thoughts. He had glimpses of being in a bed while Scully visited him, begging him to hold on while she found a solution. What had she been talking about? Why did these dreams seem so real?

He had other "visions" too—often he was teamed up with Scully, and often they were in danger. He had one flashback where he was carrying Scully out of a mammoth-sized UFO buried deep within the earth, and he had to stop and give her CPR because she had stopped breathing. Another piece of a memory came through, one where he had nearly kissed her outside of his apartment. But was this really a memory? Had they been that close? What had happened after that—with Scully, with the cases he had worked on? He could not remember, no matter how hard he tried.

He was aroused from his dazed condition by the hood coming off his head finally. And then the traitor who had betrayed him spoke to him at last. "I imagine this is all pretty confusing for you, but I just needed your help to get something I really needed."

Mulder's anger was useless—he could not get at this man the way he was bound. "Then why didn't you just ask me?"

The man lit a cigarette. "You probably wouldn't have done it. But your part in all this is over—you will be a free man in a short time, so just hang on." He drew another drag and said, "And then you can go back to your life, and I will leave you alone."


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's notes: Wow, I am one dark person. But it makes things so much more interesting, so….hold onto your hats, cuz this is gonna get ugly. Really though, I took it easy on her—believe me, I always go to even darker places in my mind, but this story is not about Scully torture (BTDT), but about the relationship between M/S. _

**So Cold**

**Chapter 8**

Part 1.

Scully sat shivering on a couch in a tiny apartment, wondering if it was just cold in here, or if the cigarette man just had that effect on people. There was no longer a bag on her head—he had removed it once they arrived. And he had not bound her hands-he knew she would not run away when Mulder might pay the price of her escape.

He got her a glass of wine, and then sat down next to her. She wished she could hide the fact that she was trembling—she knew he fed on weakness.

"Wine?" he asked, pushing the glass towards her.

"No thanks, I've had enough already."

"Come now, don't be rude. This is finely-aged stuff—it would be an insult."

She knew she would not be allowed to resist. "Fine," she said, and took a sip. She tried to drink as slowly as possible, to keep from becoming too vulnerable too fast.

But much too soon after drinking her first mouthful, she started to feel woozy. She had been drinking earlier tonight, but she still had a hard time believing that the dizziness she felt was due to the alcohol alone. Was he drugging her?

She decided not to drink any more, but it was too late. The room spun around her, but she hung onto consciousness as tightly as she could, knowing that she would have no protection if she passed out. As a result, she was awake, but only enough to witness the events that followed, and not enough to fight back.

The sense of horror she experienced at feeling his hands grope at her skin thankfully only lingered for short bursts of a few seconds, and then she would fall back into an unresponsive trance once again. She was vaguely aware that he was taking his time, although time was not a concept that she could grasp easily in the moment. She blacked out for a moment, and became aware that his lips were on hers. She tried to move her head away, but he found her lips once again, and she was too weak to resist as his tongue forced its way into her mouth.

"Dana," he croaked in a whisper. "I have wanted to do this for so long." He stroked her hair while she tried to contain a bout of nausea. "You are such an attractive woman. I finally have you all to myself."

And then he leaned in for another kiss, and she wished that she _would _vomit, just to get him off her.

He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, and she knew that there was nothing that could save her from being violated by the most venomous enemy one could ever imagine.

Part 2.

Sitting in Scully's car, Mulder could not get the image of her resigned expression out of his head. The keys were sitting in the passenger seat, and while he was picking them up he caught a glimpse of something else in the seat, out of the corner of his eye—his FBI badge, with his profile picture displayed prominently on the front. He stared at it, trying to come up with reasons why she would be keeping it in her car. Was this supposed to be a message to him—a reminder of his former life? Or did she care so much about him that she needed her own reminder—of him?

A sudden flood of memories swelled into his head…kissing her on the forehead while she was in the hospital…hugging in the hallway after her friend died…dancing together at a Cher show…

He rubbed his temples, trying to take it all in. Then it struck him—this was the woman he _truly _loved, and she had just made the ultimate sacrifice for him. Mulder snapped out of his trance, and in that moment, he knew what he had to do.

Part 3.

In moments of clarity, Scully tried to comprehend her future. Was this what she had to look forward to—spending the majority of her time as a sex slave to this asshole? She wondered what Mulder was doing now—she sincerely hoped that at least _he_ would derive some happiness out of this exchange. Maybe if she closed her eyes and imagined that Mulder was the one who was in bed with her right now, the images would relieve the disgust she felt.

But as soon as his nicotine-tasting mouth covered hers, she knew the fantasy could not erase her revulsion. She tried to turn her head, but his crinkled hands grasped her chin and turned her face back to meet his. Finally, she gave up and allowed him to kiss her.

She laid still while he unbuttoned her blouse. His breath deepened, and he pressed his body against hers, but pulled back out of anger. "At least act like you're into it!"

He grabbed her face hard now, perhaps hoping that the pain would inspire her to comply. But it was not the pain, but rather pure resignation, which caused her to finally join in this game of pretend. She wrapped her arms around him, and in a drunken haze, kissed him deeply.

She forced herself to keep up the charade while he pulled up her skirt and then roughly pulled down her panties with one hand while burying his face into her breasts. She sucked in deeply when he caught one nipple too hard in his teeth. But when she tried to push him away because of the pain, he grabbed her other breast even harder, and she could feel all the air leave her lungs when she gasped.

Now he shoved a hand into her crotch, and she shivered, sickened by the touch. But he misinterpreted her reaction as excitement, and kept his hand there longer, running his fingers through her most private of places. She closed her eyes, trying to block out her feelings, but she felt so…dirty, so decimated by his filth. Finally, he withdrew his hand long enough to pull his own pants and underwear off. She tried to steel herself for what was coming next, but the dread caused her breath to quicken. How she wished she would have just allowed herself to pass out when the moment presented itself earlier. Now she would have to be conscious during the moment when he stole the last bit of her dignity.


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's notes: So I borrowed some of the material from 6__th__ Extinction, Part 2 here. Had to leave in the best part! PLEASE NOTE—there is a reason I left it the way I did. I have decided to follow up this story with another, more light-hearted one, but it will start where this one left off. It will be a completely separate, stand-alone story, but the MSR will be in the same place where I left off here. Hey, maybe I could write a whole new Season 7! Lol… _

**So Cold**

**Chapter 9**

Part 1.

Knowing there was no time to waste, Mulder called the only people he knew who might be able to track Scully down in a hurry—the Lone Gunmen.

An hour later, Mulder gripped a piece of paper with an address in one hand, and a map in the other. He drove through the streets of a Washington suburb, while memories continued to pour into his mind. It was as if the memories were drops of water in a cup—once it reached a tipping point, they all rushed as one into the collection basin of his brain.

He had to double-check the address in his hand against the run-down apartment building next to where he was parked. Surely he would not have brought her here. Mulder had expected a government building perhaps, or a research facility.

Not willing to waste any more time trying to figure it out, Mulder rushed into the building and up to the second floor, where he scoured the apartment numbers until he found the right one. Fortunately for him, Scully had left her car for him. Unfortunately for the both of them, she had not left him with a gun.

Hoping that he was not too late, Mulder kicked the door open.

Finding the living room dark and empty, he moved stealthily through the apartment, even though he figured he had probably lost the element of surprise by the sound of the door slamming. But he was wrong, because he found the door to the bedroom open, with two people occupying the bed.

In a matter of seconds, he sized up the situation—Scully lying on the bed, the cancer man's naked body poised over her, preparing to mount her. Without thinking any further, Mulder charged towards the bed and tackled the man onto the floor, and, fists flying, proceeded to pound the wrinkles out of his face.

Part 2.

Mulder caught Scully by surprise—her first reaction when he slammed her nemesis to the floor was not relief, but rather, embarrassment. She mustered up all her strength to pull her skirt down while Mulder proceeded to beat the man to a pulp.

Mulder continued hammering cigarette-man until he was unconscious, and by the time her partner made his way to her, she was finishing with the last button on her shirt, hands shaking. Her first words came out in a slur. "Agent…Mulder…"

"Shhhh…" he said. "Scully."

Their eyes met, and in that moment, she knew she had Mulder back…_her _Mulder. But she had to be sure. "Mulder?"

He pulled a blanket off the bed, and gently tucked it over her. Then he sat down next to her. Their eyes locked again, and he said, "I remember everything."

It took a few seconds for his words to sink in, but when he opened his arms to her, she raised herself into a sitting position, and let her weary head rest on Mulder's chest. Then all the tension and grief finally broke, and she began to sob as he wrapped himself around her. His body absorbed every shudder of sorrow from her body, while he stroked her hair tenderly with his hands. No words needed to be spoken-his touch told her that he really did remember all of the love they shared for one another.

He held her that way for what seemed like an eternity. She did not ever want to leave the comfort of his arms, but she pulled away to answer him when he asked, "Are you hurt?"

She created just enough space between them to speak, but kept her head down. After composing herself, she whispered, "Just my pride."

He lifted her chin up with one finger so that he could see her face. His voice was soft. "Did he…did he hurt you?"

She felt her face contorting with tears again as soon as her eyes met his, but she shook her head and said, "I'm okay. Really. I'll be okay." She sniffled. "But I think I've been drugged."

"Come on, we better get you out of here," he said, and he helped her out of the bed. She tried to walk, but even with his help, she was too weak. To her relief, Mulder swept her up in his arms and carried her out. After that, she felt that she could finally relax, and she drifted in and out of consciousness while he took her to the car. She woke up in a hospital bed, but there was nothing really wrong with her, other than GHB-the date rape drug-being found in her system. After she had slept it off, she was released, and Mulder took her home and cared for her the way she had wished she could have cared for him before.

Part 3.

The next morning, she awoke in a haze, remembering the details of the previous night with a feeling of shame mixed with a sense of deep fulfillment at having Mulder back. She got up to find him making breakfast for her. Seeing her enter the room, he stopped what he was doing to take in her presence. As she approached him, he stood facing her, and brushed a strand of hair from her face.

"Scully," he said, as if he was saying her name for the first time. "I'm so sorry…I can't believe I could ever forget you."

She smiled up at him. "Mulder, it's not your fault. Your memories were manipulated—it was completely out of your control."

He smiled back at her forgiveness. "You know, Scully, I lost my way during this whole ordeal, and there were times when I didn't know where to turn or who to trust." She searched his eyes, wondering where he was going with this. But she was just glad that he was finally sharing himself with her, after shutting her out for so long. He continued, "But one thing that stayed the same through all this, even when I didn't realize it, was that you were my friend, and you told me the truth. Even when the world was falling apart, you were my touchstone…my constant."

She felt new tears beginning to form. She looked deep into his eyes and said, "And you are mine."

They beamed at one another, and she pulled his head towards her so that she could kiss him on the forehead. But before her lips made it that far, he put his lips to hers instead, and they shared their first kiss ever. All the feelings of disgust and revulsion she had felt the night before drained out of her, and she felt her body respond to this magical exchange with desire—a longing for even more. Somehow she knew her wish would be granted.


End file.
